


i don't know who i am

by zacefronspants



Series: and i lock every single door [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Multi, Possessive Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Rough Kissing, Self Confidence Issues, Sort Of, jackson doesnt suck too bad in this, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 21:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacefronspants/pseuds/zacefronspants
Summary: There’s no audible snap, or shatter, but he feels it when Scott zeros in on his collarbone where his name sits all messy and dark, nearly invisible as it blends in the dark purpling bruise Jackson left on him and Scott whispers low and slow, thick and syrupy, “How long has my name been a brand on you, Stiles?”
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore
Series: and i lock every single door [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1285748
Comments: 3
Kudos: 250





	i don't know who i am

**Author's Note:**

> this is like the unofficial beginning to the series, can be read as a stand alone
> 
> a warning: scott is possessive in a sense, but not like "mine and only mine" or "i licked it so it's mine" way

Stiles is seven when Scott’s name makes its way onto skin and makes home so close to his throat that he’s not even sure if it hadn’t always been there. He keeps a secret, locked up so tightly that it sits there, slipping and gliding over the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out.

Claudia asks him about it, with a look in her eyes that says she already knows the answer, when she sees it one day after Stiles has come home from Scott’s and all he says is, “It’s a secret,” and it’s not mentioned again.

Stiles isn’t too shocked (a lie, he’s so surprised he cries), when he turns sixteen and another name is added onto his body, _Allison Argent_, it reads in soft script and he wonders what she’s like, what her favorite color is, if she’s pretty, etc. Stiles knows it means that the universe decided he’s too much for one person and that he needed a third, he hates the idea. He barely thinks he deserves Scott, so doesn’t need another soulmate. Stiles again keeps this in the same box that he keeps Scott’s name in because Scott doesn’t have names yet, which is okay (it’s not, it scares Stile so fucking badly). Stiles ignores the stabbing in his chest whenever he sees Scott’s blank arms and chest and legs, ignores when Scott smiles at girls and boys who aren’t him. He ignores the throbbing for so long that he doesn’t notice when it becomes an everyday ache.

Stiles takes to shaving his head down to a zero and kissing Jackson in empty classrooms whenever he knows Jackson and Lydia are fighting. Let’s Jackson lick and suck dark bruises in his collarbones and wish dirty words into his open and wet mouth. Kisses Jackson back with as much anger and fervor as he can manage, uses as much or as little tongue as he wants, bites back just as hard sometimes, too. Stiles knows that letting Jackson use him this way isn’t healthy and that it needs to stop, but it makes everything not ache as much, so it’s okay.

Until he drags Scott into the woods and gets Scott bitten by a rogue werewolf and their sleepy, boring lives go straight to hell. What makes it worse is the fact that Scott seems to be pissed off at him and Stiles, gets it; it was his fault, _his idea_ to check out the sawed in half dead body in the woods after he’d been instructed to not. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less when Scott gives him short clipped answers, ignores him for days, won’t listen to him when he tries to apologize and offer his help with all of this because it’s not easy for either of them, mostly Scott.

It comes to a boiling head when Stiles comes out of the empty mythology classroom after he’d let Jackson rut against him and kiss his lips raw. Stiles smacks into Scott and hears Scott growl something possessive and dark and it makes something in Stiles want to _submit_. He swallows and looks up at Scott threw his eyelashes and waits. There’s no audible snap, or shatter, but he feels it when Scott zeros in on his collarbone where his name sits all messy and dark, nearly invisible as it blends in the dark purpling bruise Jackson left on him and Scott whispers low and slow, thick and syrupy, “How long has my name been a brand on you, Stiles?” And it shakes Stiles to his core, makes any fight or lie he had slipping around at ready disappear and he blinks and blinks and tries to think of something, anything other than what he says, almost embarrassed and defeated, “Since I was seven.”

And it’s that phrase, that sentence, that makes something wicked drip down Scott’s lips and curl possessively. Scott crowds him against the door and press his nose into Stiles’ pulse point and inhales deeply. Stiles feels him press soft, warm kisses onto his neck and it makes his bones settle for the first time in a long time. Stiles tilts his head and bares his neck a little more, for more access he tells himself he's not submitting (he knows he’s submitting, likes it a fuck of a whole lot), and suppresses a whine when Scott rumbles something pleased. Stiles watches Scott lick and suck over every mark Jackson left indented on his skin and it feels like he’s trying to erase the proof that Jackson ever touched him, ever thought about fucking him and it makes something splinter inside of Stiles’ chest.

When Scott finally kisses him, it’s not soft or sweet, it’s all teeth and too much tongue and the desperation to consume each other over and over again until they’re melded into one singular being. Stiles wonders if this is just a werewolf thing or a them thing, wonders if they’ve always been like this or if this is only happening and coming to light because Scott now has animalistic urges he can’t quite control anymore.

He decides quickly he doesn’t want to go down that line of thinking and just lets himself be consumed whole by every swipe of Scott’s tongue and every suckle to his own tongue.

He breaks it off with Jackson shortly after Scott remakes every mark Jackson had left behind into his own, it’s goes about as well as he expected it too; insults, name calling, shoving, promises of, “He’ll never make you cry like I do.” And it makes his bones start to decay because maybe Jackson’s wrong, but a small part of him wonders if he’s right because Stiles again, isn’t sure if this a them thing or a wolf thing, He really fucking hopes it’s just a them thing; something that was always going to happen and not happening because Scott has a wolf that crawls underneath his surface and lies in wait, ready to pounce, eat and _claim_.

It’s cool and wet when Allison Argent comes spiraling into their lives, crashing through the barriers Stiles set up so carefully and he doesn’t try to stop her. Just watches as she smiles at Scott with dimples and shiny lips. It makes him ache fiercely, yearn to touch his fingers to hers and kiss her and whisper about his hopes, dreams and anything in between. He’s caught staring when she looks at him and grins, a peak of his monstrous first name sitting pretty and dark on the inside of her forearm and he knows.

He’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come scream at he on tumblr @togxpi


End file.
